What We Don't Know
by diamondlilyflower
Summary: Lyra Carlisle. The twelve year old victor of the 69th Hunger Games. Basically raised embroiled in the politics of the Capitol, always in the eye of president Snow and people looking to stab a knife in her back. Lies she must tell, secrets she must keep, will the little victor survive the tide of a rising rebellion? Better yet, will her heart survive the soft touch of Finnick Odair?
1. Chapter 1

Lyra sat on the train, finally on her way home to District Four after her almost suspiciously long stay in Twelve. She tried to think of how she would explain away what she had been doing there, Finnick and Mags, all the other district Four victors weren't believing the 'I wanted to see Haymitch again' excuse, not any more.

She knew that she wasn't the only one that Snow had put a barcode on, she knew for a fact that Finnick had one, that they had tried to put one on Johanna, but she couldn't bring the strength forth within herself to admit it to them. Haymitch, in a way, is her person. Whenever she had an appointment with a client and she wasn't mentoring at the time of the Games, he and Effie let her stay in the spare mentor's room up on the twelfth floor.

Most of the time she was actually mentoring, but Mags insisted that every once in a while she had to have a break. It's been four years since she won her games, four long and harrowing years. She doesn't have many memories of the time before she was embroiled in the politics of the Capitol, of President Snow. After her games, Finnick had kept one of his first promises to her, the victory tours' last day, when they were in the capitol dining with the president and all of his insane capitolite subjects, was her thirteenth Birthday and as promised, eighteen year old Finnick escorted her in and stayed by her side for the initial stages of the night, only disappearing when the president had glared his way, at which point he had gone and she was left, but only for a moment before Haymitch made a move to her.

He helped her make her way through the crowds of her 'adoring' fans and to a group in the corner that consisted of Beetee, Chaff, Seeder and Haymitch himself. Chaff and Haymitch were downing shots together, whilst Beetee and Seeder kept up amicable conversation, which Lyra easily slipped into.

She had been friends with that group of victors ever since.

Of course, since that night she had mentored with Finnick for the 70th, 71st and 72nd games and she was going to mentor again for the 73rd, before Mags took over on the 74th. Finnick had told her of his… forced nightly affairs, that was after her second time mentoring, when she was fourteen. By the next time she was mentoring she had a barcode on her arm and not the heart to tell him. Every night when he came back, thoroughly loathing himself and the capitol and president Snow, it was her who he told; it was her who dried his tears. But she went to Haymitch.

It was a long train ride from Twelve to Four, but she made the journey often, more often than not she took the train from Four to the Capitol, the Capitol to Twelve and then Twelve to Four in the space of a week. When the train did halt at the platform, she stepped off and immediately took a deep breath of the fresh, moist air. Her hair, mousy and a few inches past shoulder length, swung from where it was tied high on her head with every step she took.

The town had been her home for twelve years before she got her house in victor's village, but she never liked to stay there long, not after everything that had happened there. Her parents, her brother, and his wife, her other brother…

The first house she went to was not her own, instead Annie Cresta's front door was already open before she was even up the stairs, it had probably been open since dawn, when Mags popped round for their morning ritual cup of herbal tea. "Annie? You in here?" She called out. A vague sound of confirmation rang through the house, so Lyra kicked off her boots and made her way through to the living room, where the red headed girl was sat on the sofa, cross legged. She turned and spotted Lyra, a naïve, childlike grin illuminates her face and she said "Ly, you're home."

"Yeah, Annie and I shouldn't be leaving again for a while. Is Finnick around? Shouldn't he be here? He usually is at this time-"

"He left on the train a few days ago; he said that he hoped to be back today. Where were you all this time Ly? It's been two weeks and I haven't seen you." It's times like those that Lyra feels most guilty for lying to her friends, the times when Annie really demonstrates how intellectual she is. Those are the moments that you see the girl she was, three years ago, before she went in to the games.

Lyra had seen her, known her before, but not very strongly. She had been friends with Lyra's older brother, neither of them were in good shape now, her brother dead and Annie prone to fits of panic and hysteria.

"Do you want to go to the beach, Annie? Go swimming with me?"

Annie readily agreed. The two girls were in shorts and vests and stopped by to speak to Mags on their way to the beach, who readily greeted them, but then sent them on their way without her.

Together Annie and Lyra sat on the sand the water cool and refreshing on their feet. It was Annie that filled most of the silence, with all the different stories of the days she had missed. Annie, truly, was the only one in the entire district that did not suspect anything of Lyra; she believed it every time she came back and told her that she had gone to Twelve to see Haymitch.

They sat like that for an hour or two, neither noticing the person standing just off the beach, watching them intently and smiling. Finnick Odair ran a hand through his tousled sandy hair, smiling at the sight before him. Annie and Lyra. Lyra had always had a way with Annie that nobody else had ever been able to come close to. She was comfortable with Mags, had a friendship going with Finnick himself, but with Lyra, they were so close that they could almost be siblings.

He didn't have to wait much longer before Annie left the beach and headed home, whereas Lyra stayed where she was. He waited a minute or two, before he made his way over, threw his arm around her shoulders and sat beside her.

She turned to him, with a sideways glare, that was, in his opinion positively adorable. She couldn't hold it for long though, she broke out into her small endearing smile and leaned in so that her head rested on his shoulder. "I missed you Lyra." He whispered as he placed a little kiss on the top of her head.

"I missed you too." She murmured back.

"Haymitch is a lucky guy, gets to spend this much time with you."

She almost tensed, almost. She caught herself just in time, she knew Finnick was suspicious and for a moment she thought about opening up, about opening up her closet and letting him see all of the skeletons she kept in there, but she couldn't do that. He saw her as innocent, he still held her in the same regard as he had that little twelve year old girl he met on that morning, the morning before she was reaped:

_She woke up that morning from another bout of fresh nightmares, her parents being shot by peacekeepers only a month or so prior plaguing her with a relentless fury. Cold sweat rolled down her back and her breath came in gasps, strained and pained. It didn't help that her first reaping day was in a few hours either. Checking her window and finding that it was still mostly dark, the first rays of sun just kissing the sky, she scrambled up, pulling on simple shorts and a pink, floral vest. At the top of the stairs she stuck her head around the door of her brothers' room. It was only her and Ricky in the house now, their eldest brother, George, having moved out to live with his wife. Ricky was still asleep, that's how he spent most of his time. He was eighteen and after an accident whilst he was out fishing he was bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. She kissed his forehead gently and then slipped on her boots at the front door and left the house._

_She was light on her feet and easily evaded peacekeepers as she escaped the district into the slight shrubbery. It wasn't a long walk to where she was aiming for though. She kept going until she found her gap in the rock and she slid through it. She followed the small tunnel until it brought her out on a ledge of rock that was little more than a metre above the surface of the water. With it being reaping day she couldn't hang her legs out to touch the water out of fear of being spotted by the excess peacekeepers floating around with little to do at such an early hour, so instead she crossed them and just stared out at the water. She found it so soothing, calming after her nightmares. She ended up down here on most mornings, sick to the stomach from nightmares, with nobody to talk to. Not her brother that had moved across the district to live with his wife and had left his twelve year old sister to care for their crippled brother, not her crippled brother that had enough on his plate anyway. She nearly didn't hear somebody else coming down the tunnel behind her. But she did, turning around just in time to see the face of Panem's youngest ever victor.  
Finnick Odair. _

_She may have been four and a bit years younger than him, but she knew that every woman in the Capitol had loved him, that's how he managed to win, with all the sponsors. He flashed her a smile, like the ones he did in his interviews with Caesar Flickerman. He knew she felt uncomfortable, but he moved to sit right next to her anyway. The cave didn't offer much space, so she couldn't object to it.  
They sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke to him. "Do you have nightmares?"_

_He seemed stunned at her question as he gazed at her, like she was a puzzle. He was still for a few moments before he nodded._

_"How do you... How do you manage?" She asked uncertainly. "Every single time I fall asleep I wake up in the middle of the night and I feel like I'm going to combust or go mentally unstable, maybe even both. How do you manage to push them away?"_

_Again he looked stunned, but he recovered much quicker that time "Find someone to open up to. Every night before you go to sleep, tell them everything you're afraid of. It doesn't keep them completely away, but it makes you feel more at peace with it." He paused for a moment. "What do you have nightmares about?" That was it. The question that would either have her running away from him or maybe be the beginning of his first real friendship since the games. _

_She was silent for an awfully long time before responding "you were around when two people were executed by peacekeepers for speaking out of turn about Snow?"_

_He nodded. "I asked the peacekeepers to let them be, but they shot the woman first right in the skull. The man, her husband was begging for him to be spared so he could look after his three kids. I remember him saying that his eldest had just turned twenty four and his youngest was thirteen in winter. Her first reaping and she was already having trouble sleeping. They shot him anyway."_

_She didn't speak. Didn't trust herself to for a few moments until she managed two words "my parents" he understood immediately, wrapping his arm securely round her shoulders. They sat there for a while, until the sun was making its ascent and they both needed to get ready for the reaping. He left first and pulled her out after him. "Before you go, what's your name?" He asked, his slightly flirty grin making its way back onto his face. _

_"Come find me after the games Odair and I just might tell you."  
For a moment she thought he was going to stick his tongue out at her like some kind of child, but he didn't. Instead he met her eyes and said "until then, my little rebel girl." She tilted her head at him, confused by the name, but he just shrugged and headed back into district four._  
Four hours later he found out her name. It was written on the slip of paper pulled from the reaping bowl.

That was the girl that he was desperate to believe that she still was. The naïve little girl, who'd just lost her parents, but still had her older brothers. The one that was young and trusted him so much that she told him her life story just after she'd met him. The girl that didn't tell him her name, the girl who broke rules and hid outside of the district on the day when most peacekeepers were about.

But that girl didn't exist anymore, dead and buried ever since she went into the games. Ever since talking to President Snow. Ever since getting that barcode on the back of her neck. That girl had looked up to Finnick Odair, her mentor, the one that got her through the games.

This girl, this Lyra Carlisle, she implicitly trusts Finnick Odair; she has no family apart from Mags, Annie and Finnick Odair. This Lyra Carlisle loves Finnick Odair and she doesn't have the heart to tell him.

**So... I wrote this whilst on holiday and I thought I'd upload it anyway, even though I haven't edited it yet. I really want to know what everyone thinks of it and I hope you all enjoyed reading it.**

**xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

Finnick and Mags were leaving in a week, mentoring for the 74th games. Lyra had to come up with an excuse to get out of the district and to the Capitol without being seen and Lyra had to leave before them, Snow would have liked her to have left yesterday, but she hadn't. They were so suspicious, every single one of the district Four victors were prompting her, waiting for her to slip up and reveal why her 'trips to Twelve' were becoming more and more frequent and how she often stayed longer than she used to.

Before she had been hesitant to tell them, worried that they would think less of her or pity her, see her like the common people of the district saw Annie. But that was before. She didn't have an appointment in the Capitol until the reaping day, but Snow had requested to see her the day before and also 'requested' that she stay quiet and tell nobody about it.

Oddly enough, even though she had kept all of the meetings, the clients, the pain, a secret from everyone apart from both Haymitch and Effie it was proving impossibly difficult now that she absolutely had to keep it secret. All of the lies, all of the secrecy it was finally, finally pushing her so hard that she feared she was going to snap under the pressure.

Her nightmares were getting worse and more frequent, often haunting her days as well as when she slept. She stayed outside of the district a lot more often, sat on the ledge where she first met Finnick, her long legs swinging out over the water on the days when it was dark and overcast. That was where he found her that particular morning, sitting on the ledge, chin on her knees, thin, but persistent, rivulets of tears racing down her cheeks.

He didn't say anything, just sat beside her, so close that their legs were touching. She stretched out her legs when she felt him sit beside her, inadvertently making it so that their legs were touching, from hip to ankle. She turned so that she didn't have to look at him, but then he reached out, gently grabbing her chin in his calloused hand and turned her face to face his.

"What are you crying about, Lyra?" He asked quietly.

She shook her head. "Nothing Finn."

"It's not nothing Lyra." He insisted.

She shook her head again. "It's nothing. Drop it."

"No! Lyra it's not possibly nothing. You've been distant for weeks, you disappear for weeks at a time without so much as a days' notice! This is not nothing and for God's sake Lyra I deserve to know what it is!" His voice was as loud as he could raise it in this place outside the district. If he went much louder then the peacekeepers would most definitely hear them.

Lyra was very quickly consumed by the burning fire of rage from his words. "You don't get to demand when I tell you things! You don't get to demand anything of me! Finnick Odair I am not one of the capitolites who will hang on to every single word you say just because it was you that said them!" After basically hissing that at him, her anger dissipated and was instead replaced with despair and desperate need for him to drop the subject. "Finnick I can't tell you so please, please just drop it. Please."

She knew that she sounded pathetic, most likely looked pathetic as well. Her face red from all the crying, clothes wrinkled and sweat stained from her frustrated running, that somewhat calmed her down, running on the beach on her own at random hours of the day when nobody was about to watch. The hand on her chin, that both of them had forgotten about during their heated exchange, absently moved round to the back of her neck.

That time, she didn't react fast enough to not tense. She tensed on the contact to the exact spot that had ruined her life, that held all of the secrets she had been keeping. Finnick was not a stupid man, he immediately recognized the change. "What's wrong with the back of your neck?" He asked, his voice thick with suspicion and a hint of worry.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." She growled, teeth grinding together in frustration. "Finnick Odair. You cannot demand things of me when I do not want to speak to you about them. You do not get to demand things of me when I implicitly tell you that I cannot tell you. Get it through your thick skull Odair." She paused, the seething fury seeping back through her skin. "I. Can. Not. Tell. You. Finnick. Odair."

Before he had enough time to respond, to do anything that could successfully stop her, Lyra was gone. He put his head in his hands. He had pushed her, tried to get the answers from her that all of the victors were asking for, but he had pushed her too hard, caused her to close up. He sat there for a while, wracking his brain for how to fix things with her, how to make her trust him enough to tell him.

Knowing her she had run immediately to Annie, knowing that nobody would dare to confront her while she was there. So, he headed up to Annie's, only to find that the twenty year old was already sound asleep, her red hair fanned out like a halo, sleeping soundly. If only she would sleep that peacefully through the night. Almost definitely she would awaken again in… maybe three hours, maybe less.

As quietly as he had come in he left again, this time going across the street to Lyra's own house. He eased the door open as quietly as possible, but the creak it emitted echoed around the whole house and he cursed. That was the end of his 'sneaking into her house to check on her and then leaving again before she even notices' plan. He walked through the house, not bothering to walk too lightly or too quickly.

He checked everywhere in her house, even under a few of the loose floorboards, he couldn't put something like that past her. She definitely wasn't there. But… Where the hell was she? He replaced the floorboards and then left again, heading out into the main District, even though she hated being there. He ran his hand through his hair, effectively mussing it up, but he didn't care. He needed to find Lyra. He needed to stop Lyra, before she started to spiral, he couldn't lose her like that, not again. He could not deal with another Annie.

She was involved in something and that something was bad. She couldn't tell him what it was, so that just left him with even more questions, his curiosity completely insatiable. Suddenly he heard the faint whiz of a train on the nearby tracks and he cursed. She was about to disappear again and he had given her absolutely no reasons to rush on her way back.

He sped up, ran towards the station. If he ran quickly, he thought maybe, just maybe he might be able to stop her from leaving. Just as he got to the station and ran up onto the platform the train was leaving. The wind battered him, so he took a few steps back, but he saw the unmistakable glint of mousy hair and glistening, blue eyes, wide and doe like on a tear stained face.

He had been too late, she was already leaving. He had pushed her and he had pushed her over the edge, not giving her a parachute to ease the fall. She had trusted him, but not enough to tell him what was bothering her, he had trusted her, but not enough to let her come to him on her own, when she was ready.

But now she was on that train and with the direction she was going it couldn't be taking her to district Twelve. But he knew exactly the direction that it was going.

The Capitol.

Damn it.

**Ok, so as a writer I've noticed that I have a very common tendency to write something and have it have a few (or many) things that aren't particularly explained well, because I have a habit to not explain things that I understand. So if anyone spots anything that I could improve my explanation for, or if you spot something you don't really understand the context of, just let me know in a review and I'll address it in the next chapter;) Or you could always leave a review if you thought it was done well:) But I think that just reading it is a great compliment, so thank you. xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

That week in the capitol seemed to drag on for years. Appointments every single day and night, any time she spent in her capitol lodgings, she spent bandaging her wounds and wishing that she had stayed with Finnick, with Annie, or Haymitch or anywhere except following Snow's orders and coming to the capitol.

Sleep did not come easily. Usually, at home she struggled to sleep and was plagued with recurring nightmares in the hours that she did manage, but here she could not sleep at all. The moment she shut her eyes the nightmares started, whether it be about her games, about lying to her family, about her parents and brothers or just about the appointments that Snow made her take.

Day by day the capitol got busier, the hype for the games increasing tenfold as the reapings drew nearer and nearer. Two days before reaping day Snow cancelled her appointments. Without a doubt that was so that her visible bruises had time to heal before the cameras caught sight of her, before Finnick or Haymitch had a chance to catch sight of her.

It was the day of the reapings that she was called to Snows office, escorted by four peacekeepers that were most likely entirely necessary. He was sat behind his desk, scratching his beard in a thoughtful manner when the peacekeepers announced her.

With one look he dismissed them all, leaving her standing rigidly too far away from the door to successfully make a run for it. "Miss Carlisle, please sit down." He said, turning to face her, he smiled, but that smile only made her want to throw up, more than she already wanted to.

She didn't say anything, but stiffly obeyed. She sat on the very edge of the chair opposite Snow, watching him, trying to look unaffected by the awkward silence. "Miss Carlisle. It's so very polite of you to join me here today." She just barely stopped herself from scoffing at the statement, "and I hope you have enjoyed your week here with us in the capitol." He stopped and it took her a moment to realize that he actually wanted her to respond, to say something, anything.

Rapidly she tried to think of something to say that wouldn't constitute as treasonous or ungrateful, but wouldn't paint an image that she was satisfied with being toyed with. "Well, it is very different from home, an entirely new experience, president, but I do hope to go back home and stay with my family for a long time after this, I fear I have gone without them long enough."

"Ah." Immediately she was thrown into a panic. He wasn't sending her home, he wasn't letting her go. "You see, Miss Carlisle, you have already been spotted in the capitol in time for this year's games, so you are wanted for so many interviews during the course of the lead up to this games that it would be simply, unjust to send you to district Four now. But, I do think that we can come to an arrangement regarding how… inconvenient this may be to you." Again, he paused, but she was completely bewildered as to how she should respond, so she simply said,

"So I'm to stay in the capitol for the duration of the games, sir?"

"Yes you are, Miss Carlisle, but I do believe you need something to occupy your time that won't have you so… suspiciously absent, as much as the last week of your activities have been." He smiled, maliciously, "but, I know that your original district already has two mentors sorted out and on their way, or at least they will be."

"I don't know what you're implying for me to do." She said, cautiously.

"Well, miss Carlisle, there is one district that doesn't' have two mentors on the way." He said, malicious grin looking less malicious and more… smug?

"Sir, are you implying that you want me to mentor for district Twelve instead of my own district?"

"I always knew you were a smart one, Lyra." Why had he called her Lyra all of a sudden instead of Miss Carlisle? "I'm going to let you inform Mr. Abernathy upon his arrival. I'm sure the people will simply adore the fact that you and I are charitable enough to give the poor, sickly outlying districts support from career victor no less and I'm sure that you will not be informing Mr. Odair of any of your… injuries?"

She nodded mutely, suddenly very aware of exactly why he had tried to be less formal with her. He wanted to make sure that she wasn't going to cause any more trouble for him, than she had already caused for being spotted before the games already in the capitol when for all intents and purposes she was still in Four. He was likely going to manipulate her friendship with Haymitch if she said anything else, blackmail her into secrecy or keep her in the capitol longer.

"I'm so glad that you are happy with this Lyra. I trust you will be comfortable staying in the district Twelve tribute centre floor?"

Again, she nodded without saying anything.

"You have grown into a lovely young lady Lyra and I'm not the only one who sees it, I think you need to realize that everything you say is food for the people here and I hope you know that if you aren't careful what you say things could get a lot worse for you."

With that, not at all veiled threat, the peacekeepers came back in and escorted her out of Snows office. She couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. As soon as the peacekeepers left her on the top floor of the tribute centre, with strict orders that someone would come up and prepare her for that evening's interview with Caesar Flickerman.

As soon as they had gone she slammed the door behind them and piece by piece felt her calm pseudo cracking away. She sat on the floor, leaning against the door. She pulled her knees up to her chest and stayed there. She tried to take her mind out of the capitol, to imagine the hot sand between her toes, the cool salt water splashing over her.

She imagined Annie, sweet, innocent Annie, with her long hair and soft smile. The way they sat together on the beach, the only person who didn't suspect any of her secrets, any of her lies. She imagined Mags and her concerned, motherly looks, the intelligence in her gaze that always made her think that she knew everything, everything that she sought to hide.

And then she imagined Finnick. His flirty smile, his innuendos, his sandy, tousled hair. She imagined the way he opened up to her in a way that she could never face doing, how he was so good at putting up a front to hide how he was truly feeling.

That was where she wanted to be, at home with them… with him. But instead she was in the capitol, in the lion's den and she wasn't going to be leaving any time soon.

She felt like she was sitting there for no more than a handful of moments when someone opened the door and she had to scramble, ungracefully, to her feet. Tears sprung to her eyes at the sight of the person in the doorway looking at her.

Her stylist was a tall woman, with tanned skin, dark, black hair, and almond eyes. Her clothes don't look like she's a capitolite, she looks more like she's from Four, with her loose fitting blue and pink sundress and gladiator sandals.

The only thing that marks her as a none district resident is the tattoo on her collar bone that reads "_Every flight begins with a fall_" at first Lyra didn't understand it, but after winning her games she felt like all she had done was fall and her flight hadn't started yet.

The two embraced and Lyra whispered "I'm so happy to see you Wren."

The stylist smiled "Now, girl who ripples, let's get you ready to make some waves."

**Shout out to my two reviewers for the last chapter, Niki & Jazu10501! Let me know what you guys thought;)**

**xxx**


	4. Chapter 4

As the train carrying the district Twelve tributes arrived, Lyra headed down in the elevator to wait for them, in the hope to catch them before they were whisked away for the tribute parade. Wren had put her in a blue and purple dress that went to just above her knees with deep brown gladiator sandals. Her hair had been curled and fell around her shoulders. She had on a brown bracelet that was threaded together with little, forest green leaves, their way of symbolizing both Four and Twelve.

She spotted Effie first, her flamboyant clothes and annoyingly high, but oddly musical voice. Effie of course, spotted her immediately. "Ah Lyra dear, do come over here." Lyra did as she bid and joined the group, gaining a hug from both Effie and Haymitch and confused looks from the two tributes.

"It's good to see you sweetie."

"Thank you Effie, it's great to see both of you."

Haymitch on the other hand, looked far less than pleased. The look he gave her practically screamed _we'll talk about this later._ Mere moments later the two tributes were swept away into the remake centre and Effie disappeared as well. Haymitch took the opportunity and grabbed Lyra by the wrist, dragging her away from the onslaught of cameras.

Once they were alone immediately he said "What the hell are you doing here Lyra?"

She felt uncomfortable for a moment and he noticed her gaze go to the floor and then back up again. "More appointments?" He asked, much more gently.

She nodded. "Snow asked me to help you mentor this year."

For a moment Haymitch was stunned into silence, before he recovered his snarky attitude "He does realize that you're from district Four right? Not Twelve? Is he completely insane?"

Lyra quickly shushed his rapidly rising voice. "Haymitch, isn't this a good thing? This way I'm not out on more appointments and you can keep an eye on me at all times." She paused, allowing him some time to absorb what she was saying, "and I can help train your tributes, Snow knows that Twelve are the least likely to win, but why did he put me here? Clearly he sees something he likes this year. Either that or he's finally realized that you spend more of your time drinking than training."

He scoffed and for a moment he looked angry, but then he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in for a tight hug. "I missed you kiddo."

"I missed you too." She laughed and then released herself from his grip. "Come on. We need to go out by the horses or we'll miss the whole parade." The two of them then headed out to where all twelve chariots were waiting, along with the rest of the mentors, who were talking quietly amongst themselves about how they would tell their tributes to act.

Effie must have already gone up into the audience to stake claim on their seats. It wasn't long until the tributes started pouring out from the remake centre, the big brutes from Two and Ten, the blond from One, the tiny girl from Ten, who reminded Lyra of herself. The male tribute from Twelve, Peeta, she seemed to recall his name was, came out with Portia after not too long. He looked great in his outfit, like a piece of blackened coal.

Lyra headed over to him and offered her hand, which he took, albeit cautiously. "I'm Lyra Carlisle. I'm mentoring you with Haymitch."

"Peeta." He said, seemingly a lot more comfortable knowing her identity, "and that's Katniss."

Lyra turned and indeed Katniss was walking their way, completely matching Peeta in her attire, though she looked extremely less friendly than he did, in a way she seemed more like Haymitch. Her stylist was right on her heels and he was smirking like Wren did every single time she dressed Lyra in a covert attempt to make a statement in the Capitol. Oh, this was going to be fun.

After how successful the tribute parade went the group, that is, Lyra, Haymitch, Effie, Katniss, Peeta, Portia and Cinna, went to have dinner on the twelfth floor. It was a friendly affair, no matter how uncomfortable Katniss was making it. Peeta was at least making a conversational effort, he couldn't imagine that Haymitch actually had friends and that even had Katniss listening to her response.

It wasn't too late into dinner that Finnick arrived. He rode up on the elevator from the fourth floor and then awkwardly stood at the top of the stairs to the dining room and ran his hand through his tousled hair, clearing his throat. In that instant all of the eyes in the room turned to him, including Lyra's.

"What do you want Odair?"

"Ah, Haymitch, haven't changed I see. Still as polite as ever. But unfortunately I don't have enough time to continue this remarkable conversation , you see myself and Lyra are expected at a meeting with Caesar Flickerman. Do you want to set us a curfew?" Finnick asked sarcastically.

Haymitch and Lyra both stood up, Lyra quickly heading to Finnick's side. Finnick held out his arm, smirking. "Milady." She laughed breathily and gently placed her hand on his forearm.

"Keep her safe Odair."

"I will Haymiych. I will."

Together Lyra and Finnick left the twelfth floor. In the elevator they stood in silence, until Finnick spoke. "I'm sorry Lyra." His voice was soft, gentle, as if he was afraid she would break.

"It's fine Finnick. You wanted to know something that I couldn't tell you. Curiosity was only natural." It infuriated him how she could sound so clinical, so dejected. Where had his Lyra Carlisle gone?

"Please, Lyra, you have to tell me. I can help you, whatever it is, but if you keep me in the dark my mind just keeps going to the worst possible conclusions." He turned to directly face her, "please Lyra. Please." He could see her mask cracking, her stubbornness finally relenting.

"Promise me Finn, promise me you won't tell anyone. You have to promise, you can't tell anyone, not Mags, not Annie, not any-"

"Lyra, calm down, I'm not going to tell anyone, not if you don't want me to."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, before she scoops it all up and lifts it off of her neck, revealing the barcode and then she turns so that her back is to him.

Finnick inhaled sharply from behind her and raised his hand, running his fingertips across the barcode. She can't help it, but she flinched. He went silent for a moment, before he pressed a feather light kiss onto the back of her neck.

At that point the elevator doors open and she dropped her hair down, allowing it to cover up her neck. Finnick took her hand in his and they headed to go to her interview. When they made it to where she had to wait before Caesar called her up, he quickly kissed her cheek and he was gone before she could say anything about it.

Caesar's questions weren't exactly hard to answer, he mainly asked why she was in the capitol before the games even started, to which she responded, "Oh, well Caesar, I suppose I just can't get enough of everything there is here, I mean, it's so different from what I'm used to back in Four,"

"Considering you don't see people with multi-coloured skin in district Four, I'm not surprised." Caesar laughed. "Now my dear, did you happen to watch the reapings today? It feels like just yesterday it was your reaping."

"Oh my reaping feels like a lifetime ago for me, I mean, I wasn't the only one that thought I wasn't going to make it out, I thought my life was over when in fact it hadn't even started yet." She risked a quick glance at Finnick, sat in the audience, seemingly completely relaxed.

"You certainly are a lot more grown up now than you were then." He broke off to laugh, flashing his absurdly white teeth. "But you were absolutely adorable when I first met you, not that you aren't now of course."

She chuckled, "I was a very different girl back then. I couldn't even begin to imagine being that girl instead of the one I am now."

"Ah yes, I was informed of the hardships of your childhood, your parents and both your brothers were killed in a series of unfortunate events, were they not?"

The audience made some sounds of unhappiness as she nodded, trying to shake away the memories that were threatening to swallow her. "I'm sorry for bringing up some bad memories Lyra, I just thought that this was the perfect time to commemorate their memory, do you not agree?" He aimed the question at the audience, who all cheered.

"My brother would have loved this, being spoken about on the television like this." She laughed. "Now Ceasar, I really think that this year is going to be a great one for the games. There's such a widespread spectrum of tribute calibre, do you not think?"

"Oh yes, you do always have an eye for this sort of thing don't you? I know that the girl from Twelve caused a massive stir at her reaping, volunteering for her sister like she did and I think that girl from Ten has a look of you, but we'll have to wait till after training, won't we?"

The two of them laughed and not too long after that they said goodnight. She was smiling the whole time as she bid the audience adieu and then she quickly left the stage.

Immediately after she escaped the view of the cameras and the capitolian audience she walked head first into Finnick's open arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and inhaled his strong scent. His arms embraced her and she allowed herself to be enveloped in the warmth he offered.

"Come on Lyra, lets get up to the Twelfth floor where we can be sure no cameras are watching us." She nodded and allowed him to pull her along, into the elevator and up onto her floor, where Haymitch was sat on the sofa waiting for them.

As soon as they left the elevator her breathing quickened into harsh, shallow gasps, the pace steadily rising as she fought for the air that wasn't getting into her lungs. The tears stung her eyes and her lungs burned. She could feel hands on her shoulders and vaguely hear the words being whispered in her ear, until all of a sudden the volume increased tenfold.

"Lyra, Lyra listen to me. You are fine. Just breath, alright, stop panicking and breath." She recognized Finnick's voice but no matter how hard she tried to slow her breathing, it just wasn't happening.

"I." She choked, "I can't."

"Yes you can Lyra, you can face off against anything. All you need to do now is slow your breathing. Ok? In, Out. In, out." She tried and tried, but nothing seemed to be working. The blood was pounding in her head, she felt dizzy and just couldn't breath. Memories swirled in front of her eyes, her parents, her brothers, her reaping, her games. It was like a constant replay of everything horrible in her life that she wanted to forget. She wanted to forget all of the emotions, all of the loss. She wanted to forget how Ricky had tried to get better after his accident, how she kissed him on the forehead on the morning of the reapings. She wanted to forget George and how happy he had been, how perfect his life had been. She wanted to forget her parents, her loving parents who died, pleading for their lives, for their childrens lives.

The memories were stuck to her, something she was never going to shake. She couldn't see anything in front of her any more, blinded by the rubble that remained, her life wasn't supposed to be this way, she never wanted it to be this way, she wanted that happy life, the happy family life, the happy everything, but there was nothing. All she got was death, death and loss and destruction of everything and everyone she got close to.

Finnick was in a state of frantic panic. She was right in front of him and he couldn't stop her having a panic attack. "Haymitch, what do you know about another way to stop a panic attack?"

Haymitch thought for a few moments, "Surprise. I'm pretty sure that they'll need to be surprised."

"How are we going to surprise her… Wait, how do you know how to stop a panic attack?"

Haymitch scoffed. "Trust me, every single victor of the games there has ever been has had to learn how to prevent a panic attack. Even the alcoholic, uncaring ones."

Finnick snorted, still wracking his brain for a way to surprise Lyra enough. He tried to think of what would surprise him and then he was struck by an idea. Her breathing was echoing in his head as he frantically thought through exactly how insane his idea might be. "Haymitch. You won't murder me if I stop her panic attack, right?" Haymitch nodded the affirmative.

"Alright Lyra, can you breath for me? Just slow it down."

She shook her head, her eyes wide with panic.

"Don't kill me for this." He muttered, "It'd be a crime to rob the world of my beautiful face."

He took one more deep breath, before he put his hands around her shoulders and pulled her in, kissing her gently, fearful that she might break. He couldn't believe how soft she was, how sweet her lips tasted Almost immediately her breathing levelled out and he pulled away, even though there was some part of him telling him that he didn't want to stop, she looked completely stunned, but she wasn't panicking any more.

Haymitch rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Who immediately thinks of kissing when I say surprise them? And of course it bloody worked!"

**Ok, so I know this chapter is a little cliche and slow, but it is a lot more of a filler chapter before we reach some actual plot. Next chapter should introduce Lyra to Katniss and Peeta and training shall begin!**

**Thoughts? xxx**


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